Monday, July 17, 2006

This Blog Needs an Enema

Or at least a good bran muffin.

This blog has never been regular. It doesn't always move every day, but its movements are always long - sometimes so interminably long as to be, ahem, runny - and robust. So after living for so long with blogorrhea, it was discomfiting - to say the least - to suddenly be struck with a severe case of blogstipation.

I'm not sure what bunged it up. The heat, the sick, the lack of sleep, the frustration with blogging induced by a confusing comment tussle - all, I think, undermined my usual healthy, fibre-rich blog regimen. And by the end of the week the small hard posts stopped coming. (And, as a consequence, I stopped venturing out for visits, and managed only the feeblest of occasional waves from my virtual front window. For this I apologize. If you haven't heard from me in a while, know that it is entirely due to the gastro-blogtestinal distress that I am currently experiencing.)

I'm still struggling with this. But I'm going to keep pushing away. Something's gotta give eventually, right? And in any case, I want to keep a record of everything that's going in - all the things that demand passage into posts - the better to ensure that most of them come out.

1) Milestones! But not your good old BabyCenter developmental marker milestones (sure, I could blog about how the Future Ruler of the Known and Unknown Universe has moved from standing and cruising to balancing and climbing - prison-breaking, effectively, as she masters hoisting herself up and over the baby gates - but these are coming so fast as to defy meaningful posting. And besides, they frighten me - they represent the very real possibility that my baby will very quickly overtake me and defeat me entirely - and I haven't yet worked out how to process that fear.) No, the Milestone of the Week is much more in keeping with the scatological vein of this post: Baby's First Dump in the Tub!

Eight months on this Earth and WonderBaby had never even had so much as a little tinkle spill on the change table. We had never actually seen her produce a poo. We might have - if we were more fanciful people, and if it weren't for the robust farts and occasional grunting that accompanied the bigger deposits - imagined that little poo fairies came in the night and during naps to deliver custom-made fairy shits to WonderBaby's wee diaper.

If we had imagined such a thing, that fantasy came to a shocking end on Saturday evening, when WonderBaby let loose in the tub. It was a dump and it. was. spectacular. Or, at least, that's what the Husband tells me. He witnessed it, he cleaned it up. For which, it must be said, he rocks, even more than usual.

2) Why the Husband rocks. A post about why the Husband rocks is long overdue, as the Husband very helpfully reminds me on a regular basis. Such a post is so overdue, in fact, that the Husband informed me on Friday that he would soon be respectfully requesting to write a guest post, to the effect of the following:

Hello Internet, This is Her Bad Mother's Husband, aka Her Awesome Husband (ed. note HBM takes no responsibiity for the acronym). I am, as my name suggests, awesome, and I welcome your positive comments.Thank you.

HAH

Cleary, I need to get on that post, before his fragile ego is irrevocaby destroyed.

No, the Husband is not threatened by this rooster. But he still felt it necessary to enter into a little cock-a-doodle-doo-off in the barn. Cockcomb envy, maybe.

3) The effect of the heat on my will to breastfeed. Sweaty baby clamped to sweaty tit, sucking fluids from my dessicated, wilting body. Need I say more?4) Further to breastfeeding - how to get WonderBaby more comfortable with bottles before BlogHer.

5) Further to BlogHer - how to get me more comfortable with self, and with liquor, before BlogHer.

6) Further to issues concerning my comfort and the comfort of my family - whether or not to seriously consider moving to a bigger, more comfortable home outside of the city. Which is to say - gasp - leave the city. And become exurbanites. Commuting exurbanites, ack. (Better than commuting suburbanites, but still.) Which means, of course, that we would never see the inside of a museum or art gallery again. Would we trade the buzz and hum and culture of the city, trade our tiny, dusty, 120 year old house in an up-and-coming neighbourhood that is nonetheless overrun by roaming gangs of Portuguese youth who roll each other for BBQ chickens for a house with a finished basement with family room and big treed yard and full laundry? Near a lake?

Did I mention how hard it is to rid a house of 120 year old dust? And did I say about the gang-bangs provoked by BBQ chickens?

7) Further in the category of things that are messed up: Where's Suri? Over three months since the purported birth of the TomKitten - the off-spring of the emphatically heterosexual Scientologist and publicity-whore Tom Cruise and some chick who surrendered her identity and free will for the greater purpose of bearing, or pretending to bear, said offspring - and still no verifiable sighting of the child.

The obvious answer is, of course, that there is no baby. They may still be awaiting delivery of the black-market baby that will be passed off as the natural product of Mission Impossible Sperm. But there are other possibilities: if the child is, as widely rumoured, an alien, then it may take some months before she acclimates to the Earth's atmosphere.However, it is equally likely that the TomKitten is the human vessel of a rare bloodline that can be traced back to Jesus Christ. Scientologists, then, are latter-day Templars charged with protecting this extraordinary legacy and that they are currently battling a vast Roman Catholic conspiracy to destroy all evidence of this legacy. This theory does not presuppose that Tom Cruise or Katie Holmes share such divine lineage (heavens forbid); rather, that Tom Cruise beat Bill Gates in a secret auction for genetic material stolen from the last of the Merovingians and consulted with Michael Crichton and various genetic scientists on the best methods of creating a human child out of this material. The result of these efforts is Suri, the Holy Grail test-tube miracle baby, who is now being held in a top secret bunker near Rennes-le-Chateau in France, the better to protect her against Opus Dei-funded bounty hunters.

But that's just my guess. Your thoughts?

My guess is Area 51 alien breeding program, hijacked by Scientologists, but that's just me.

There. If anything's gonna clear the pipes, it'll be the monstrous hybrid of TomKat gossip and Da Vinci Code psycho-babble.

Now we wait.

*******

There's a new guest in the Basement. Go, keep her company, hear her story, and have some cookies...

I'm also not sure that Oakville and Innisfil count as exurbs, unless you're going to be way out on the fringe with an acre of land. But good luck with the decision, and I hope, if you decide to move, that you find your own perfect place.

You know, whenever my blog gets a little stopped up, I grab the nearest wig and a digital camera. But that's just me. Poop works, too.

Al hasn't pooped in the tub in a long, long time (knocking on wood, I am), but he was pretty good at "feeding the fishies" and making the Mr. start the bath all over when he was a wee fellow.

About the bottles--I wish I could help you. The commenter who suggested letting someone else feed WonderBaby while you work on the alcohol tolerance is probably right on.

And yeah, there is no Suri. Even if there is, I wonder how long it is going to take Katie Holmes to recover from her stint as Tom Cruise's beard. Remember back when they first got together and there were rumors that he had "interviewed" a few other "candidates?" I'm completely convinced that the whole thing has been a charade from the beginning. I hope the money was worth it. (God, I'm becoming quite the biddy, aren't I?)

Hey I was getting worried about youand you are going to move to the 'burbs now that I have just discovered there are cool mamas in TO?NOOObut I do understandand think about it a lot too. Real estate here is nuts and roving bands of teenagers near the 'duff are fierceL

yeah, the "nursing while over heated and sick" sucks big time. Remember to drink!!! DRINK WATER! I know it well... flu twice in four months! Yes, work on the bottle thing whilst out and about, if Wonderbaby is particularily cranky about it an age old trick is to leave a shirt (worn all day, or nightshirt) for the bottle giver to put over themselves so she can "smell" mom. It works wonders in the nicu and with babysitters.As for moving. From my forest of boxes, and no home as yet to move to (long crappy story)... IT SUCKS! MOVING WITH MOBILE CHILDREN SUCKS!!!! TRUST ME!

We have yet to find a floater in the tub (knock wood - thump, thump) but something tells me we're long overdue. I fear for that day.

As for Suri, I'm starting to think there is something medically wrong with her and that's why they're hiding her. Have you seen Katie lately? She looks like she's going through more than just early motherhood. That's my theory.

I don't know about the origins of the TomKitten, but I do know that I like the chance to be paid the exhorbitant sum of money being offered for the first public pictures/video of the young one. That paycheck would ensure my SAHM status that I so long for. But alas, such a dream.

I'm an exurbanite and didn't even know it. Personally, I love it! I have a 3500 sq.ft. house on 2 acres of land and can actually afford it! Wouldn't be able to afford a fraction of that in the city. Not that I'd want to. You couldn't PAY me to live IN my city. So far (knock knock) I've avoided the tub poop. No need to get comfortable with yourself or with liquor for BlogHer. Just drink the liquor and the rest will fall into place. As for Suri? The whole thing is just too weird and I don't know what to think about it other than I want Joey Potter and either Maverick or Brian Flannigan back.

I'm with Mrs. Chicky (re: suri), methinks there is something with Suri (if she exists) that we aren't allowed to see (a birthmark shaped like Xenu on her forehead?). On a totally different but same topic, did you know that I uploaded my photo onto that site that tells you which celeb you look like most and I got: Ron L. Hubbard. I shit you not. And you know what I look like, so apparently Ron was a cute lady (ha! I toot my own horn but I'm not scary looking so I'll opt for cutish).

Okay - moving right along. I take this post as to mean you are feeling better if not just upright and able to type. I'm happy and so is Bumper.

I always love a good post about poop and this one did not disappoint. Between the WB poop-explosion in the tub and the caca of the Cruise family existence, I got my shit-fill for the week. Gracias.

- I was worried you were REALLY sick - glad it was just blog fatigue. Welcome back!

- Ugh, we went through a long period of many, many, tub dumps. I think we need a rewrite on "Tubthumping" here... GGC? Marla? Anyone up for the challenge?

- I am inclined to think the best until the worst comes to light, so I figure if Suri was a fraud, they'd be going out of their way to show her off. Maybe there's some health issues or maybe they just want to keep her under wraps without doing it literally like Michael Jackson does.

- You might even try moving right into sippy cup with valve, if she'll take it. Just a thought. Might feel less like obviously fake pseudo-boob to her and more like a whole new thing.

- By the end of BlogHer, you'll be a veritble fish. I can feel it.

-NOOOOO! You can't move away. You just can't. We TO mamas will start a petition.

Wow, surviving the no sleep is one thing, but surviving such a young girl standing, hiking, bouldering, etc... no wonder you are wiped out. My sister walked at 9 months and my mom has still not forgiven her for it, over 29 years later.

Loved this post - I'm away from home and miss it and I sneaked on to a computer (in the middle of nowhere) and felt connected again. I loved your connection to Tomkitten and DaVinci code. So true - but really, where is suri? That question keeps me up at night.Well, not really.Good luck with the bottles. Try the Playtex ones with the disposable liners. That is the only bottle my son would take - he spit out every other kind. Good luck! That was a battle for us.

I found the wiki on "exurb" quite interesting. The exurbs of New York and Washington DC as listed there are quite far from the urban centers. Do you really have to move that far out of TO to get a decent-sized house/yard and good schools for a reasonable price?

Sending you virtual Colace and a promise not to get you drunk at BlogHer.

The places that are on our radar as potential lures out of the city are within a 1 hour drive and on (or soon to be on) commuter train lines. A few hours on the multiple listing service looking at semi-rural properties near water had us salivating. We love our downtown neighbourhood - mostly - but we can't afford bigger 'round these parts, and we definitely need bigger (esp. if there's going to be a #2, ahem). And, we like the country, if it's within dinner-outing distance from the city.

Hey! You did pretty good for needing a blog enema! I'm not even sure where to start but that poop in the tub thing is classic. All parents must experience it at least once.

As for the moving thing...we are having that dilemma, too. If we want more space, we will have to move to a more "transitional" (read: gang infested ghetto) and buy a fixer-upper except that now even those are ridiculously overpriced. The other option is to move out to the sticks and select one of a zillion subdivisions with no trees but MAJOR square footage and the huz will have to commute with gas at $3 per gallon. Yeesh...all of that makes living in a shoebox suddenly seem much more appealing.

However, it is equally likely that the TomKitten is the human vessel of a rare bloodline that can be traced back to Jesus Christ. Scientologists, then, are latter-day Templars charged with protecting this extraordinary legacy and that they are currently battling a vast Roman Catholic conspiracy to destroy all evidence of this legacy.How do you come you come up with this stuff? It's fricken brilliant!

Ang BlogHer...Yes, I, too, need to get better acquainted with my old friend, le booze. Otherwise, I WILL make an ass of myself. Oy vey...

we have yet to experience the aqua dump, but i tell ya, i can't wait for that one. i'm going to stop feeding her lentils and corn in anticipation of it...

my babe also never took a bottle. she just didn't like it (ain't nothing like the real thing, baby). we went straight to sippy cup and never looked back. however, still cannot convince her that it is too hot for boob. hubby was cut off when it hit 30 degrees.

Good luck with the bottle training. Three fourths of my crew never took a bottle (not because I didn't want them too!--It is the stubborn side of the family, I'm sure). Enlist HAH's help and get the heck out of Dodge when he is giving her the bottle so she doesn't get any ideas--that MIGHT work.

I hear you on the sweaty breastfeeding. Last summer I was nursing an infant. I'd fall asleep with him on the boob and wake up coated in a film of sweat (his/mine), milk, and usually some pee (his). Mm good.

Hope you get yourself flowing again soon. I look forward to more info about HAH, Blog-Her, and your transition to bottles over boobs. Is it wrong that I don't care about the Cruise/Holmes baby? Just don't care.

On number 6 ... stop and think hard. Really really hard. This from someone who left for many of the reasons you said and headed for the burbs. The commute almost killed my husband and my sanity. Felt so isolated and like a fish out of water and we came back. That doesn't mean that you can't be happy outside of the city ... but it just means I wish someone had told me the many downsides before I decided so I could have had my eyes more wide open.

Wherever you go, don't make it too far ... there is still the TO bloggers that'll want a piece of ya :)

I blogged about this very TomKat question earlier. My conclusion? Well...Tom claimed he would eat the placenta after the baby got here and he must have eaten the baby by mistake. Hey...it could happen.

I've been having blogger block too. It's almost better to do it every couple of days I think....Anyway, as for Tom and Katie...I really do believe, and I'm all over the celebs, they are just keeping her out of the public...I kind of get it. I mean, it's their child! (Also, I never thought I'd stick up for Tom Cruise either...)

ahhh... the first poo in the tub - sausage had his a few weeks ago and hopefully the last... after giving birth, cleaning up poopy diapers and all the other messes associated with the little man, that was horrific and since husband was away... no help was available... yikes!

When my daughter had her first (and last) poo in the tub her very attentive mother was cleaning the toilet and did not notice said poo until she wondered what exactly it was the baby had in her hand and was chewing on.